


Mourning

by sirbartonslady



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:39:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7977049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirbartonslady/pseuds/sirbartonslady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grief takes many forms and is expressed many ways. While Rose endures the fever of a new Shepherd Pact, her four seraphim take time to grieve for Sorey's sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mourning

Grief is a unique phenomenon that is utterly universal and yet also entirely personal. Everyone who is sentient feels grief at some point; this is the universality of it. But what grief does to a sentient being, how it is expressed, and how long it lingers before it ultimately fades into memory, is the personal aspect of mourning. No two beings grieve exactly alike. Even when there are tendencies and trends for expression, the hard truth is that grief, while universal, is a deeply personal experience.

However, as personal as it is, it is still an experience that has a tendency to be endured and expressed a certain way given a set of circumstances and based on social construction. Put more bluntly, humans tend to grieve one way, while those of a more ephemeral or singular nature grieve another. Seraphim mourn as deeply as humans do, though for them the experience is a much slower, longer process.

It is a well-known and oft-repeated saying amongst seraphim that humans are the most expressive mourners. They weep (sometimes openly and loudly), they mope, they become visibly depressed and dejected, and they wallow in the deepest agony of their grief for a short while, experiencing every twist and jab, before ultimately they learn to cope and move on. Perhaps it is the shortness of their lives that gives them the ability to sprint through the various stages with such wild abandon. For humans, grief is powerful, potent, but mercifully brief.

By contrast, seraphic mourning is slow and quiet, rarely outwardly expressive enough to see. A grieving seraph may weep briefly for a lost loved one, just as humans do, but after that momentary catharsis is over the seraph will shore up and carry his or her grief internally, like a slow burn, for a long time afterward, often for years; sometimes, for decades or even centuries.

It is rare to find a seraph who experiences grief with the potency of a human and the subtlety of a seraph.

Fire Seraph Lailah has been around for a long time and has served many Shepherds in her life. She is no stranger to grief, both of her own, and of others around her. She has developed a keen sense of empathy toward mourning and grieving. And right now, she and her companions are all in some stage of grief. However, one of them is having a harder time than the others.

It isn't the first time she's seen this, but it has been a long while, and she still doesn't know quite what to do. Young seraphim are as impressionable, emotional and temperamental as young humans, but they take much longer to “grow out” of that stage. And really, this isn't something that “growing out” of youth makes any easier; you just become used to the bitterness of reality with time. You learn to distance yourself from anyone who could arouse this sort of feeling until you become dulled to almost everything. Mikleo is far, far too young and raw to understand this age-learned tradition. But Lailah can hardly blame him; two people whom the young water seraph has relied upon his entire life to be there, to be _somewhere_ in the world, are now both gone to him.

She has endured loss on a variety of scales over her long life. Familiarity with loss doesn't make it hurt any less, of course, but the perspective that loss can give makes it easier to endure with time. Or maybe it's easier to say that you just become inured to its sharpness after a while; as you grow accustomed to grief and loss, you learn to live with it.

In this respect, Mikleo is grieving like a human, plunging headfirst into the pain and wallowing in it.

The candle on the desk nearby flickers as Rose, their new Shepherd, heaves a great sigh. She is in the process of writing a very important letter and is stubbornly keeping herself awake despite crippling fatigue to finish it. She has said that she must do this now while she has the nerve to do it. They have come to this simple road-side inn to do their official Shepherd Pact so that she has a safe place to rest for several days while her body recovers from undergoing the Pact, and it is here that Rose has decided to compose this all-important letter. She wants to do so before the fever takes her and knocks her unconscious for several days. Although her body is used to seraphic power thanks to her time as Sorey's Squire, she is still going to be suffering for a while until her entire system adjusts to the permanent intrusion.

Lailah is sitting on the bed, waiting patiently for her new Shepherd to finally heed her suggestions and get some sleep. As Prime Lord, it is her duty to make sure her Shepherd and her Sub Lords are all in good health and humor. It is also her duty to observe protocol; she cannot simply retire to her place within her new vessel right now, not while Rose continues to ignore the fever building in her body. Once she finishes what she works on and lays down, then Lailah may begin her part of this adaptation process. Unlike her Sub Lords, Lailah will spend the entirety of Rose's fever manifest, not dormant, tending to her weakened vessel and helping her to recover.

Edna and Zaveid, as Sub Lords, have already taken up their places inside Rose for the night, doing their best to ease the transition (a dormant Sub Lord puts less strain on a Shepherd during this transition time than a manifest one does) and build up their bond with her. They will remain there until the fever evicts them.

Mikleo, on the other hand, is stubbornly still manifest, sitting on the floor near the inn room door, gazing out the nearby window, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest, as if warding against the pain he must be feeling. His young face is carefully smooth of any worries but his eyes still reflect a haunting emptiness. He is expressing grief like a human, though he doesn't realize it.

She can tell he is trying his hardest to not show how badly he is suffering at the moment. He is a proud young seraph who does not want to burden anyone. She also knows that no one is fooled, but no one knows what to do. Rose is too exhausted from the Shepherd Pact and has not yet even begun to adjust to her new role; Edna is still in the early stages of deep mourning of her own, and trying her best to stay out of Mikleo's situation so that she can manage her own grief; and Zaveid seems to know that it is not his place to offer comfort to anyone just yet. He is very well versed in how seraphic grief works; very old seraphim tend to hide their grief very well, but they also carry it longer and more heavily. All five of them are still in some level of shock at the sudden loss of Sorey; it is foolish to think that any one of them is not presently grieving.

Lailah is trying to figure out what to do (because deal with this she must, as the Prime Lord; she can't allow anything to disrupt the concord between the seraphim and their Shepherd, not even a case of innocent sorrow) because she hasn't dealt with such a young seraph in so very long. And because she doesn't really know quite what she can do to ease his pain.

“Mikleo,” she says, gaining his attention with her address. “You really should do your part for Rose. Go to sleep.” She gestures toward Rose, and he understands her meaning.

“I like looking out the window,” he says by way of explaining his hesitation. Then, seeing her expression, he relents without another word, dissolving into a mist and merging with Rose's presence.

“Dammit!” Rose exclaims softly as she knocks her ink pot over, spilling a little bit of it. “I'm so clumsy today. I hate this!” She then proceeds to swear blackly under her breath, using a string of invectives so creative that Lailah might be scandalized if she hadn't heard all these before with a previous Shepherd she once served. While it is a little out of character for Rose to be so crude with her invectives, it is indicative of how she feels right now, with the fever beginning to ravage her body as she struggles to finish an emotionally draining letter.

This seems to be Lailah's chance, and she opts to take it. She steps over to the desk and plucks the quivering quill from Rose's hands. “Rose, you are in no shape for this anymore. You really must lay down. I'm in awe that you're still upright and conscious at this point. No Shepherd of mine has gone this long into the new Pact without collapsing.”

“I have to finish this,” Rose murmurs stubbornly, but there is a slurring to her words that underscores her condition.

“You will find the courage to finish this when you are recovered, Rose. I know you will. But right now, with this current state your body is in, you're in no condition to be doing anything.” She presses a hand symbolically to Rose's forehead (the fever is not great enough yet to be felt on the skin; Lailah only knows it is there at all because it has to be). “Please, do as I ask. We need you recovered and healthy as soon as possible.”

Rose puts up another token resistance, but ultimately she surrenders. She looks around briefly, as if wondering where everyone has gone. Then, reassured that there is no one watching except Lailah herself, the young Shepherd shamelessly strips down to her undergarments and climbs into the waiting bed. Once situated there, she collapses into fitful slumber almost immediately.

Lailah settles herself into a chair at the bedside and waits for the inevitable. While waiting, she spins her mind into deep thought, trying to puzzle out what she can do for her youngest Sub Lord, to salve his grief and ease the transition from one Shepherd to the next for him.

In due time, the two candles burn down and gutter out, and so she replaces them. (It is easier to use candles to light the room, at this time, than it is to use seraphic fire, whatever her own alignment might be. Also, the candles are part of the room rental, so they might as well use them.) Then she soaks a small towel in some prepared water, wrings it out so it no longer drips, and lays it across Rose's forehead, to help her with the fever. After that, she returns to her meditations, waiting patiently for something to happen with Rose. Moments later, it begins.

As she has been expecting, Mikleo is the first seraph to be evicted from Rose's body by the fever. (It is her experience that water seraphim can't handle human fevers.) This is the perfect opportunity to speak with him. Edna and Zaveid may be able to hear them if they are awake and paying attention, but they will not interfere, dormant as they are right now.

As he lands awkwardly after being cast out by Rose's fevered power, he crumples into a heap on the floor and looks very hurt. “What happened? This never happened with Sorey! Does she not like me?”

“It's not Rose's fault that happened, Mikleo,” she says calmly. “You weren't a Sub Lord for Sorey when he went through this, so this hasn't happened to you before. Please do not take any offense. Rose can't control herself right now.”

To her surprise, he pulls a sour face and actually pouts; “You don't have to cover for her. I guess I can't blame her. I got so attached to Sorey, I'm having a hard time accepting her as my Shepherd instead of a Squire. I'm trying, Lailah, I really am. It's just really, really hard.” He curls up and wraps his arms around his knees, pulling himself into a fetal position, hiding his face in the folds of his clothing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asks gently. “The others are asleep, so now is a good time to talk if you need someone to hear you out. You know I'll help you anyway I can.”

He seems to consider this, and raises his head slowly. “Is it wrong of me to be unable to let go yet? He's the only Shepherd I've ever known.” Then he mumbles more softly, and the next words are almost completely lost with how softly he murmurs them; “It's not even like he's dead like Gramps is... he'll come back someday...”

And just like that, the shape of Mikleo's grief starts to come into focus for her. He is more than just grieving; he thinks he is  _wrong_ to grieve.

Standing up, she reaches down and grasps his arm, pulling him to his feet. Her eyes feel a brief sting of something resembling tears as he stands up and looks at her. In this moment, with the way the candlelight falls across his young face, she sees his resemblance to his mother and uncle. It reminds her of one of her great regrets, a grief she carries deep in her heart even now and will carry for a long time yet going forward.

With a surge of maternal compassion swelling up in her, Lailah opens her arms and pulls the young seraph into a gentle embrace. He grunts in surprise and starts to protest, but she closes her arms around him and holds him tight; “I miss him too, Mikleo. I'm not able to let go of Sorey yet either, but the world needs a new Shepherd. We love him and miss him, and we will mourn for him until we can rejoice in his return.”

“He's not dead, though... he's just asleep. He's with Maotelus.”

Dangerously close to her her vow. She resolves to not start cracking jokes, because now is not the time. Instead, she tries another tack; “You miss Zenrus too, don't you? And all the people of Elysia who were lost in the battle.” A face comes to her mind, a pained woman's visage as the seal around Camlann dissolves. Another stake of misery in poor young Mikleo's heart. This one, she resolves to not speak of. She simply hugs him tighter and tries to get him to loosen up. “It is all right to cry, little one. You have been strong for long enough.”

“But...” He is resisting. She can tell, however, that he is likely to take her advice.

The moment is broken an instant later, as a momentary flash of light signals Zaveid's eviction from Rose. The wind seraph lands smartly on the floor and dusts himself off, making an ill-timed and utterly crude comment under his breath. Lailah would be scandalized if she were to bother to take a moment to consider his words, but she simply catches his eye and flicks her eyes toward the door. He is old and wiser than given credit for; he knows exactly what she is asking him to do, and he accedes. He exits the room without another word.

Mikleo watches the older seraph leave, and then turns back to Lailah with questions in his eyes. She just smiles at him and pulls him close, guiding him to pillow his face against her shoulder; “Weep, little one. You need the release. Mourn for those you love who are gone. You must begin the grieving process. Get it out of your system now, and you will be able to accept Rose with your whole heart.”

His resistance is crumbling before her eyes, and it is only his very pride that keeps him from succumbing. But he is still resisting. He looks at Rose again, and she can tell by the way he is looking (and the way his eyes flick briefly to the door before returning to his new Shepherd's sleeping face) that he is waiting on Edna's eviction.

It happens soon enough; the earth seraph is not immune to human fevers in a Shepherd, after all. As she lands daintily after being cast out, she opens her parasol and eyes the other seraphim in the room. Seeming to understand, the earth seraph nods silently, speaks vaguely of going to search for some herbs, and exits the room.

As the door closes behind her, Mikleo's composure finally collapses, proving exactly what his hold-out has been this whole time: he doesn't want his fellow Sub Lords to see him weep. To Mikleo, weeping is intensely personal, it seems. Lailah recalls that the young water seraph turned away when Edna and Zaveid each shed tears for Eizen's demise.

“Lailah,” he says softly, his voice cracking under the strain, “it's okay for me to mourn for him, even though he's not dead?”

“Of course it is.” She smiles sadly at him.

“I... I miss him so much,” Mikleo says, even more softly. His face screws up into a grimace as he struggles one last time to forestall the inevitable.

She hugs him tightly, patting his shoulders comfortingly. The proverbial floodgates open up and he collapses into helpless, quiet sobbing, burying his face in her shoulder and leaning into her. His arms wind about her and cling to her. She maintains absolute calm and empathy throughout the torrential outpouring of sorrow, weaving her tender thoughts into a blanket to cover and comfort him. He has never let himself go like this before. He is still in many ways a child as a seraph and is still learning the sadder parts of his existence. (Although he fancies himself an adult, since Sorey was an adult human, Mikleo is still very, very young and has so much left to learn about himself and his life as a seraph.)

His outpouring of grief begins to lessen as he runs out of energy to weep, and at length, his sobbing stops. He is still clinging to her, unwilling to let go. She lets him, knowing he needs this comfort. She is the only authority figure in his young life right now, and she suspects that she has become a surrogate mother to him, especially now that his father-figure is gone.

He sags in her arms, murmuring that he is suddenly very tired. She is not surprised; he has just expelled an enormous amount of energy in his grieving. Like a child that cries itself to sleep in its misery, he has just worn himself out. As she unwinds her arms from him, and he disentangles himself from her, she gestures to a stack of blankets in the corner of the room. It is not a proper bed, but it will serve as a place to nap, since he cannot sleep inside his vessel right now.

She gestures again to it, and he catches on, folding himself down on the blankets and curling up. He doesn't doze off quite as quickly as she expected him to, but in time, he drifts off.

He will be mortified later if anyone tells him he cried himself to sleep like a small human child. However, he  _is_ a child compared to the rest, and nothing can change that. Lailah contemplates asking Edna and Zaveid to not ever say anything of the sort to him, to never tease him about this. But almost as quickly as she considers it, she disregards it. Edna and Zaveid are both much more empathetic than Mikleo realizes. They both saw his condition and his need, and both heeded her wordless request for privacy.

Once she has changed the towel across Rose's forehead and checked the young woman's vitals to make sure she is recovering, she goes to the door and pulls it open far enough to peek out. Zaveid is standing in the hallway, looking out a nearby window, his arms crossed on the casement. Edna is nowhere in sight (probably outside searching for herbs as she said she would).

“You can come back in, if you like. He's done, and has fallen asleep.”

“Poor kid,” Zaveid says softly. “Young seraphim shouldn't be forced to know this kind of grief, before they even know who they really are.”

“Agreed,” she says, a little reluctantly. (She is not reluctant to agree with him; she is reluctant to be having this conversation, here and now, like this.) “He is trying very hard. Sorey was very special to him.”

“Sorey was very special, full stop.” Zaveid turns to look at her pointedly. “I understand what you're trying to say, Lailah; just don't discredit how great a loss we have just suffered.” Then he smiles broadly. “Don't worry, though. You just say the word and ol' Zaveid will take little Mikleo in. I'll do right by him, you'll see.”

She smiles faintly and considers telling him some of her thoughts, but thinks better of it when he turns back to look out the window. “You are welcome to do as you wish, Zaveid. You will be in close quarters with him for a while, I think. Perhaps he can learn a few things from you.”

He nods in acceptance of that, then looks over at her with a bright smile, and he winks; “Thank you, Lailah.” For a moment she sees a shadow of grief cross his amber eyes. Now she understands why he is refusing to come into the room with her.

To give him some privacy for his own grief, she closes the door between them and returns to her place at the bedside. Although feverish, Rose is quiet and seems to be sleeping as peacefully as one can in her condition. Lailah gently strokes a sweat-dampened lock of cherry-red hair to push it out of Rose's eyes.

_Sorey was very special, full stop. Don't discredit how great our loss is_ .

Zaveid is right. Lailah has served many Shepherds, and she remembers each and every single one in her own special way. She refuses to openly compare them, and prefers to never speak of any of them, but it is hard to not want to compare them sometimes. Sorey really was something unique and she will miss him terribly, perhaps more than any Shepherd she has served in the last.... she stops that train of thought. She has a new Shepherd now, and must give her whole being to that new Shepherd.

To her surprise, a teardrop lands on the back of her hand, and she realizes that she has begun weeping. She feels a slow, mournful smile spread across her face as she regards that droplet of wetness. It seems she has some physical expression of grieving to do of her own. With the others content to do their grieving elsewhere, she decides that she can do hers right where she is.

Lowering her face into her hands, she silently expresses her sorrow for the Shepherd she grew so attached to in such a short time. She allows herself to very briefly wallow in the pain she felt watching him sacrifice each of them and then himself to stop an overwhelming force. And she weeps for the shattered pieces left behind by his monumental achievement. They still have not yet told the seraphim of Elysia, nor the people of Hyland and Rolance, and especially not Princess Alisha, that the Shepherd Sorey is gone (and will be gone for a long time) and Shepherd Rose now roams Glenwood in search of residual malevolence.

As her inner defenses against this sort of thing assert themselves, Lailah wipes her tear-stained face with a damp towel and massages her cheeks to lessen the effects of the fatigue. At length, she is done weeping, and clamps down on the visceral grief inside.  _Now_ , now it is time to focus entirely on Rose.

 

* * *

 

Sometime later, as dawn breaks over their inn and the first rays of sunshine peek through the window, Lailah hears the door open and Edna and Zaveid shuffle silently in. In response to their return, Mikleo stirs from where he has slept motionlessly, and the three seraphim look to their Prime Lord for guidance.

She directs them to help her mix up a febrifuge for Rose and to do what they can to help their new Shepherd. Mikleo sits himself beside the bed and cools the water in the nearby basin, changing the damp towel across Rose's forehead regularly. Zaveid circulates air through the room to keep the temperature optimal. Edna, who spent the night outside searching for herbs, grinds the herbs into a powder and mixes them into a paste. Then she administers the medicine to Rose.

Afterward, the four seraphim sit on the floor together and talk. They talk about life, their oath to Rose, their objectives going forward, and the memories of Sorey that they will honor and carry into the future like talismans. Mikleo talks candidly about Sorey and Zenrus, Edna speaks of the respect Sorey earned from her with his honesty, and Zaveid just reiterates his vow to stay with them and to see things through to whatever end there is. Lailah openly admits to all of them, but mainly Mikleo, that she almost did not accept their water seraph's Sub Lord pact yet, because she erroneously believed he needed time among those he loved back in Elysia, and to help Elysia recover from the loss of Zenrus. 

He glares sourly at her through the confession, right up until she reminds him that she did not, in fact, refuse him at all, that she had a change of heart. “I'm not the only one who loved and honored Sorey,” he says tartly. “You all did too. You know it to be true. Why would you coddle me and not the others?”

“That is partly why I chose to honor your desire to be Rose's water seraph,” she says with a timid, apologetic smile. “You have earned your right to be with us, and I should know better than to presume to know what's best for you. I'm sorry for doubting you, Mikleo.”

“Well,” he says, still puffed up in mild outrage, “at least you're better than Sorey was about it. He would have kept refusing me, you know. Stupid Sorey didn't understand until I practically slapped him with the truth of the matter.” (She decides not to argue this point with him right now. Mikleo is not stupid; he is grief-stricken, exhausted, and yet determined get through this.) “But I'm _staying right here with you guys_ , is that clear? I don't want to go home to Elysia. I want to help Rose make Sorey's dream a reality. My feet are already on this path; you can't make me sit home and wait it out now!”

Zaveid throws his head back and laughs heartily; “So there you have it! Our Mik-boy prefers  _us_ to the people he grew up with! I think I'm genuinely flattered!”

“You shouldn't be, Grampveid,” Edna replies. “He just tolerates you, like the rest of us do. You're all here because you love _me_.”

“I'm pretty sure we're all here because we believe in Rose and in Sorey's legacy,” Mikleo retorts, looking to Lailah, who is now laughing too hard to respond. “You guys are so arrogant, it's incredible.”

They take their time sharing stories and reaffirming their bond with each other and with Lailah, and they get through the long day of relative silence in this pacific manner. There is a brief interruption as a maid comes in and panics at the sight of Rose sick in bed. The maid runs out and frantically calls for a healer. The healer who is called proves to be an older man with just enough resonance that he senses the presence of the seraphim, and with their powers combined in a relay, they are able to communicate to him that they have been caring for Rose. He leaves them some powdered febrifuge to continue administering to Rose, and then he leaves them alone.

Thanks also to the healer, a meal is sent to the room a few hours later and the seraphim partake of the meager portions, dividing it up amongst themselves. Then, in the evening, Edna and Zaveid go outside, leaving Mikleo and Lailah alone. Mikleo shyly asks for a little more comfort from Lailah, and she gladly offers him her strength to lean on. It feels so good to hold someone in her arms like this, and she takes comfort in his presence, in soothing his pain. Together, they continue down the road of recovery. His episode of grieving is much shorter this night and he doesn't fall asleep immediately afterward. Instead, he pulls a book from a shelf and starts reading to pass the time.

Edna returns sometime in the wee hours of the night. She and Mikleo calmly divide up the blankets in the corner and create two makeshift pallets, then each curl up and go to sleep.

Zaveid returns a few hours before dawn and finds a comfortable spot near the bed to sit down and doze off. Only Lailah refuses to sleep, because it is her duty to her Shepherd to stand vigil while the Pact solidifies. She will sleep once Rose is awake and recovered. She administers the last of the powdered febrifuge and then calmly waits.

Shortly after dawn, Rose's fever breaks completely and she awakens. As her seraphim gather around her, she smiles up at them, clearly relieved.

“I'm so glad to see all your faces,” she says softly. “I dreamed that you all vanished and I was all alone, that I had to search out my own seraphic partners. I found myself missing all of you so much – even you!” She smiles brightly at Zaveid, who grins back at her.

“How could I ever leave such a pretty young lady behind?” he says. “I have my choice of ladies, in fact, since we all know where Mikleo's heart really lies. YOWCH!” He yelps in brief pain as Edna jabs him hard in the back with her umbrella.

Lailah strokes Rose's sweat-dampened hair gently and smiles down at her; “We will always be with you, Rose. Welcome back. I expected you to take longer to recover from this, and yet here you are. You are impressive. Get some rest now and then a little later you can get up and have something to eat. With luck, we may be able to leave here tomorrow.”

Rose chuckles tentatively as she sits up, but her fragile composure comes apart almost immediately as she looks around the room. Her eyes alight on the desk, and the unfinished letter there. “I still have to finish that, don't I?” Her eyes fill with tears, but she manages to throttle them back and keep them from falling.

The letter on the desk is a formal declaration of dissolution. Rose is taking on the mantle of Shepherd, and so she must disband and disavow her beloved Scattered Bones, because as the Shepherd herself, she cannot allow for a guild dedicated to killing to exist with her blessing. It is too likely to cause a conflict of interest and ultimately breed malevolence. Because the Scattered Bones is her pride and joy, her personal family, it is like she is disavowing her very self, and they all know how hard this is for her. This is largely why she has been so emotional since they made the decision to come here for their Shepherd Pact.

The Sparrowfeathers will not be disbanded, but will instead be handed over to Eguile, her second-in-command, until a new leader can be elected by the Sparrowfeathers. Rose herself will discontinue any further association with them, because the Shepherd cannot be directly bound to any country or any guild. She must isolate herself from any human companions (until she finds a Squire to share her burden) because she must not allow herself to be manipulated and used for any one person's (or country's) private benefit. She belongs to all Glenwood now.

Rose has never wanted to be a Shepherd. She has always wanted what she has had – the Scattered Bones and the Sparrowfeathers, the pride and prestige of her guilds, and the love of her surrogate family. Becoming Sorey's Squire was one thing; becoming his successor was another thing entirely. And now here she is.

For her to surrender what has been her identity for so long, in order to do right by the Shepherd that even she came to love in her own way, is very hard for Rose. However, it is this very dedication of hers that has inspired all four seraphim to devote themselves to her and serve her as faithfully as they served Sorey. (Of course, familiarity helps too.)

Lailah pats her shoulder and pushes gently downward; “Go back to sleep, Rose. You'll feel much better when you've had some real genuine sleep. There's no rush. We're not going anywhere right now.”

Rose looks like she wants to argue, but then she yawns and nods in agreement. “Okay, I guess I can do that.”

There is a flash of light as the three Sub Lords, with single-minded unison, all dissolve and return to their vessel, to rest and build their bond from within.

“Gyah!” Rose flails her hands briefly as the lights fade into her chest. “That's going to take a long time to get used to.”

Then, as Lailah settles (tiredly, because she has not slept in days now) beside the bed to wait it out, Rose nestles into the bedding, returning to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Hours later, Rose finishes a robust meal, bathes, changes into a fresh set of clothes, and then she and her seraphim go outside to practice armatizing quickly and quietly. Her style as a Shepherd will be very different from Sorey's and she intends to use her skills as an assassin to her advantage in rooting out hellions and malevolence. For this, stealth is a necessary skill.

She learns quickly to form the shape of the true names with her mouth and tongue and breathe shallowly, uttering a breathless whisper, and the corresponding seraph armatizes with her immediately. Zaveid, of course, picks this up the quickest and they perfect it with ease. Mikleo, keen to prove his worth, is the next one to learn to armatize at the softest calling of his name. The last of the seraphim to learn to synchronize with her after a whispered or silent command is Edna.

Then, they go back inside, Rose sets to her letters, and Lailah decides the time has come for her to finally get some sleep. Rose's fever is gone, their bond with each other is strong, and they can leave in the morning once Rose has finished her letters and has had a full night's sleep.

It's time for the Prime Lord to finally rest. Dissolving into a fine, warm mist, Lailah returns to her vessel and settles in. The warmth of a living vessel, the steady beat of Rose's strong heart, engulf her like a tender embrace and lull her into a deep, restful sleep.

Grief, in all its forms, is natural and recurring, but so too are love and acceptance. Grief is finite, and ultimately must be released. As Lailah goes to sleep inside the body of her new Shepherd, she lets go of the worst of her grief for all of her previous Shepherds, if only for now.


End file.
